


Memory Is The Key

by TheAssassinGame



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: British Idiots, F/M, Freelancers... But British
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 03:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAssassinGame/pseuds/TheAssassinGame
Summary: The Americans weren't the only ones to make it to space. The British, led by the Conductor, are in the midst of the fight against the aliens, mostly enforced by the Freelancer team. Joining them is the new recruit, Agent Berkshire, who finds that the aliens are the least of her problems, along with a killer sense of deja vu.





	1. The Newbie

Agent Ashlynn Berkshire turned off the ignition and jumped out of the warthog, snatching her rifle and bag from the passenger seat. It was a quiet morning, so when the rumble of the machine abruptly stopped, the silence chilled her. It was a new start, just another step towards her career as a Freelancer, that's what she kept having to remind herself. She had to dust off the dirt that had gathered on the road, first impressions were everything, she figured. But the looming stone wall around the British Astral Army base was more imposing than any of the battles she had fought and found herself lingering at the warthog. However, she couldn't put this off forever. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Hey!" A voice called out and she snapped her head up to see a patrolling soldier, positioned above the gate. "Who are you?"

"I'm Agent Berkshire, I'm the new Freelancer agent." She replied, keeping her rifle slack in her hands so to not suggest that she would open fire. All the same, she gripped it tight, nervously. It was her first day after all.

"Ah, so you're the newbie then," he chuckled. "C'mon in!"

The doors opened with a low groan and Berkshire walked on through. The growing noise of chatter and the steady rumble of vehicles reached her and as the silence faded away, she felt more at ease. There were the standard white soldiers positioned around the Freelancer base with the occasional Freelancer agent wandering around, passing the time. Those agents could be identified by their white or black armour that was striped with another colour, varying between the agent. Agent Berkshire's was white with a garnet red stripe down the centre of her helmet, making her easy to identify without having to show her face.

She made her way to the control sector, avoiding the various glances from the other soldiers. Even the generally disinterested Freelancer agents turned to see the new arrival. This unnerved her.

The door opened as she held her hand up the sensor panel and Berkshire walked on, the weight of her bag growing increasingly heavy and the rifle becoming uncomfortable in her grip. Her footsteps were loud, echoing throughout the corridor. As the sound reached the far room, the three voices became silent.

"Agent Berkshire." She introduced herself, stopping in the doorway as the three men turned to her.

"Good morning, Agent Berkshire," the central man said. "I'm Agent London, the leader of the Freelancers as I suppose you're aware of."

He shook her hand and she filed away a mental note to address the Freelancer with the black and gold armour as 'sir'.

"I'm Agent Nottingham," said the man to London's right, a Freelancer decorated in black and silver armour. "I'm the second in command around here."

"And I'm, ah, Agent Buckinghamshire." Said the third, who was white, like Berkshire, but had a blue stripe instead.

"So you're the third in command, then?" She asked after shaking his hand.

"He likes to think so, but he's just a good solider with a lot of respect." London chuckled.

"And that counts." Buckinghamshire insisted.

"I'm sure it does. Now, if you'll take Agent Berkshire around the base, get her introduced to everything here."

"Will do." He nodded.

Buckinghamshire walked ahead of her and kept a quiet disposition. The return of the crushing silence made her uncomfortable.

"So, not much of a talker, eh?" She tried to break the ice.

"No, not really." He answered, his voice soft but cutting deeper than the silence.

This was going to be awkward.

* * *

 

The first stop was the canteen, filled to the brim with noise from the soldiers and Freelancers, easing the uncomfortableness between them.

"Hey, Buck!" A voice was distinguishable in the rabble as three soldiers came bounding towards them.

"These are Agents Devon, Dorset and Leicestershire." Buckingham introduced, waving to the three. Devon had a white and yellow armour and what Berkshire assumed was her brother had a similar armour of white and orange. Leicestershire's armour was black and green, standing out between the other four white agents. They had their helmets tucked under their arms as they'd just been eating and the friendly faces revealed made Berkshire more comfortable. It was something about the helmets that made everyone look so robotic and inhuman.

"Call me Lester." Agent Leicestershire said, shaking Berkshire's hand.

"It's great to have another gal in the team." Devon told her, smiling. She had blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, similar to Dorset's hair, shorter but the same shade.

"Hey, does that mean we can call you Berks or something now?" Dorset suggested.

"That's cool." Berkshire nodded and turned to Buckinghamshire.

"Can I call you Buck then?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Buckinghamshire shrugged.

And then, the uncomfortable silence returned.

* * *

 

"So, this is your room." Buck waved a hand to the almost painfully bright white washed room as the tour concluded.

"Homey." Berks nodded and stepped in, tossing her bag on her bed.

"You'll be reporting to Agent London at oh eight hundred hours every twenty four hour cycle for the next week until you've been fully inducted into the team." Buck continued, his voice steady.

"Right, cheers."

"I'll let you get settled in. At twelve hundred hours, come down to the canteen to eat and then there'll be a training routine where you can show off what you can do."

"Just after I eat? I thought you had to wait an hour."

"That's for swimming, Agent Berkshire."

"Not calling me Berks, eh?"

"It's unprofessional."

"The others call you Buck."

"I didn't ask for it." He snapped and turned, heading for the door.

That was it. She'd had enough.

"Hey!" She yelled and Buck turned back, his head titled to the side.

Berks regretted that. Despite all the Freelancers being a team and supposedly equal, there was a ranking system and Buck was at the top.

"Yes, Agent Berkshire?" He responded, a threatening tone hardly hidden under his seemingly innocent question.

"What is your problem with me?" She demanded, folding her arms and glaring through her visor. "Did I do something to you that offended you? Is my report not good enough, am I not good enough to be a Freelancer?"

"My opinion of you should not matter." He answered sharply, and stormed out.

"Balls." Berks muttered as she slunk back into her room. "I'm so dead."


	2. New Tricks

Berks didn't eat. She sat in the canteen alone, her tray before her, untouched. What the hell was wrong with that guy? He clearly did not get along with her at all, but there had to be a reason behind it. She just didn't know what it was.

The voices around her filtered through her ears as a low drone, the clattering and laughing barely standing out amid the consistent noise. She poked the unidentifiable food with a plastic fork, deciding it was a carbohydrate... Potato maybe?  

Her eyes drifted up to the clock and jolted as she realised how long she'd been lost in her own world.

"Bugger." She growled, jumping up and sprinting down to the training sector.

It was like a warehouse, a dark, military warehouse with scuffs, mysterious splatters and scorch marks scattered around. Should she ask about the fire damage? Probably not. She figured it would raise more questions than give answers. A large floor, decorated with crates and a table at either end, covered in various weaponry told her that they were ready for her.

"You're late." Buck said, turning when he heard her.

"Yeah, good to see you too. You didn't actually give me a specific time though."

"It's nearly thirteen hundred hours, we didn't think it would take you an hour to eat."

"What can I say, I'm a slow eater." She shrugged then gazed across the warehouse again. "So, am I going to be fighting you?"

"No." He shook his head and stepped back. "You're fighting him."

As Buck jogged up a set of stair to the spectator room, Berks turned to see a black and blue Freelancer appear from the other side of the warehouse. He rolled his shoulders and turned his head as he began to warm up.

"Uh, how about an introduction first?"

"Agent Berkshire, Agent Manchester." Buck's voice rang through the warehouse from the loudspeaker. "Now, first is hand to hand combat. When you're ready."

"Hi!" Berks waved to Manchester as he barrelled towards her. "Ah, another guy who's not much of a talker then, eh?"

Manchester dived and Berks jumped to the side.

"I think we should really get to know each other first." She called as he rolled and bounded onto his feet.

With a snarl, he threw a punch and Berks deflected it. Manchester kicked at her knees but she jumped. He hooked his boot around the back of her leg and when he brought his leg back, Berks' legs vanished beneath her.

"Woah!" She was winded, but it didn't stop her from joking around. "You gotta buy me dinner first!"

Straddled on her, Manchester kept throwing punches but Berks snatched his hands and pressed them to the ground, either side of her head. She bucked, using momentum to kick her body into the air and flip, throwing Manchester over her head. He landed on his front as Berks twisted in the air and slammed into his back. He grunted and rolled, but Berks kept control. She wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled. He struggled and yanked on her arm but she was stronger.

"I yield!" He called out as his breath began to be cut off.

"Good, since I had a feeling you never intended to ask me out and that would be awkward!" She let go and climbed to her feet.

"I've missed this." He chuckled, leaning over as he tried to stand.

"Missed what?" Berks frowned. She'd never met this man before.

"Uh..." He looked up. "I missed the fights when my opponents talked. I don't get that a lot."

"I can imagine." Berks replied, unsatisfied with his answer.

"Next up is batons." Bucks announced and the two approached their tables, selecting their weapons.

Berks approached her table and selected the batons. It was long stick that was detachable in the centre. With a slight 'crack', she split it into two rods and pressed a small button on either handle. A crackle and a pulsing sound grew as sparks erupted from the rods. She twirled them around her wrists, listening to the electric whir, joining the rumble as pillars rose from the floor, in all different heights.

"This time," Manchester said as he faced her, pointing to the colours of his armour, "I'm going to beat you black and blue."

"Hilarious," Berks scoffed, preparing herself in a fighting stance.

"Go." Buck's voice came from the speaker and the two burst into action.

Berks knew that running straight into the midst of pillars would make her look vulnerable and stupid. And that's exactly what she wanted.

Another pair of feet added to the beating of her own footsteps as she sprinted, and she knew Manchester was behind her. She bolted for a pillar and didn't slow as it rushed to meet her. Her body adapted to the quick change in gravity as she kicked off the pillar and flipped backwards. In mid-air, she saw the pulsing light of Manchester's baton, still connected together like a javelin, rushing for her head. She blocked it with one of the rods, pushing it away from her as she landed, using the other to counter the motion. He twirled the weapon and sparks flew, threatening to set their armour alight as their rods made contact.

"Ah, c'mon!" Berks laughed as she parried and returned each strike with ease. "You can do better than that!"

Manchester growled and advanced, stepping forward as he fought. Berks kicked out, slamming Manchester's frame into the pillar behind him, using the momentum to flip backwards. Once vertical, she didn't stop. She kicked off the other pillars, jumping from one to another as she ascended, gaining higher ground.

"Bet you can't get me!" She taunted, waving her hands as she turned off the electric rods and clicked them in place to her thighs.

"You willing to keep that bet?" Manchester tested the weight of the baton in his hand.

"Yeah. You hit me, fair and square," she slapped a hand to her armoured chest, "and I'll clean your armour for a week." The impact of the rod wouldn't kill her, but it would damage her armour, give her an intense electric shock and a headache that would last a fortnight.

"Make it a month." He said and threw the baton.

The electricity sparked as it flew through the air, the sound of it throbbing and crackling, approaching Berks at a rapid speed. She was a sitting duck, it'd hit her right square in the-

At the last second, Berks snatched the baton from the air and jumped. She split the baton into two, leaping towards the man that threw it. Her boots slammed into Manchester's body and he fell back.

"Looks like it'll be you on cleaning duty, eh?" Berks grinned under her helmet and stabbed the rods into his chest plate.

The sparks flew from where it made contact and his body convulsed, but it wasn't fatal. Berks stood, standing away from the smoking form.

"Damn in, Manchester!" Buck's voice rang out and Berks saluted mockingly to the booth where spectators watched from.

"I'm... Okay..." Manchester tried to sit up, but fell back.

"C'mon, buddie." Berks offered a hand and he took it, weakly getting to his feet.

"You're pretty good, Agent Berkshire." Manchester said, batting away the smoke. "You got me pretty quick."

"Hey, call me Berks." She patted his shoulder. "And you're damned good yourself, I thought I was gonna have to be cleaning your armour for a month for a moment there."

"Alright, Berks, call me Chester."

"Not Manny?"

"Nah, there was a guy that called me Manny a while back," he said, looking past her as he spoke.

"Oh? And what happened to him?"

Chester turned and looked her straight in the eyes.

"He's dead now."

"Okay! Chester it is then!" Berks held her hands up, unsure if his story was true or not.

"Agent Berkshire and Manchester, get up here on the double!" Buck called out and Berks groaned.

"Is he always like this?" She grumbled as they jogged across the warehouse, the pillars disappearing back into the ground.

"No..." Chester shrugged, a hand in the railing as they took the stairs. "He used to be happier but-"

"But shit happened and I got cranky." Buck finished, waiting for them at the top if the stairs.

They stopped.

"My behaviour has got nothing to do with either of you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Agent Buckinghamshire." They said, their voices monotone, like school children brought before the headmaster.

"Now, do you want your reports or not?"

"Yes, Agent Buckinghamshire."

"Stop saying it like that, that's annoying."

"Yes, Agent Buckinghamshire."

Berks and Chester glanced to each other, grinning under their helmets. Buck glared and shoved the device into Berks' chest before storming past them.

Sucking air through their teeth, Chester and Berks drew their attention to the device, holding analysed details of the fight, the scores and development.

"That was a good trick, taunting me like that." Chester pointed to the footage of Berks waving atop a pillar. "And chatting away too, really put me off."

"Really? Huh."

"Who taught you that?"

"I don't know, but it worked so far so I think I'll carry on using that trick."

Buck, in the process of storming away, had stopped and listened for a moment. Then, he grunted and left the building.


End file.
